Baby Sitting
by BLAYNK
Summary: Derek's uncle smiled too sweetly as he pulled out of the driveway, hopefully the kid wouldn't stay up too late.
1. First Day

Derek huffed and crossed his arms, glaring across the cars console at his uncle Peter. His uncle's advisor needed a babysitter, and his uncle offered Derek. Derek didn't like the little human children that didn't come from his family; they were too fragile and cried too easily. Plus he knew this kid had ADHD and was a happy curious child, the type Derek absolutely loathes because they asked too many questions and don't understand the concept of personal space.

As they pull up the driveway Derek notices the police car in the driveway—the only vehicle that the family has. He wishes that maybe someday he can ride in a police car—not as a criminal, but for fun. Getting out, his uncle smiles a little too sweetly at him as he pulls away. Going to the door he knocks, and the advisor—Mrs. Stilinski—opens it, inviting him in. They have a smaller house—Derek does live in a mansion with an entire pack—but Derek enjoys the warmth it brings. It reminds him of his own house in some ways, the warmth and inviting that it has.

Soon enough he's left with Stiles—that's what the child likes to go by—and the child is looking up at him with tears welling in his eyes. Derek's twelve; he shouldn't have to deal with this. "What's wrong?" Derek asks, the kid hiccups and starts sobbing.

"I want my mommy!" The kid—Stiles—manages out between sobs. "And you give mean looks! Like the teachers at school." Sighing Derek grabs the kids hand and drags him upstairs to his room. Derek never got a tour, but he's pretty sure Mrs. Stilinski knows he can find most things by scent.

"Come here." Derek commands, letting go of the boy and sitting on the single bed. He holds his hand out for the younger boy to take. It takes a few minutes before the boy hesitantly comes forwards, grabbing the offered hand to be pulled up onto the bed—he's not quite tall enough to get up by himself. "Do you want to hear a story?"

Derek stared down at the sleeping child curled up around his side, hearing the door open downstairs and Mrs. Stilinski call out softly. She came up the stairs to peek in the room as her husband fumbled with something in the kitchen.

"Was he good for you?" She asked, coming in and touching the boys head. "Stiles can be a handful."

"He was good, I told him a story and he fell asleep. I've been here the whole time." Derek said, squirming as Stiles breath tickled his neck.

"Okay, well I'll call your uncle and get him to tell your parents you're spending the night." She patted his head and left, not leaving him enough time to argue that he wanted to go home. It's why he stayed up this late in the first place. Sighing, Derek snuggled into the pillows, he didn't want to wake Stiles and have him cry again.


	2. Bath Time

It had been a month since Derek began babysitting for the Stilinski's, and he had become very close to Stiles—the little monster. Sure, he may turn into a beast that can tear someone apart, but Stiles was just everywhere all at once, it didn't matter what time it was. If Stiles wasn't sleeping he was getting into trouble, and it doubled if his friend Scott came over.

"Stiles, heel!" Derek snapped out, catching a vase that had been teetering on the ledge of a table Stiles had ran past. "If you want cookies for your snack you will stop and come here!"

"But I don't want to have a bath!" Stiles yelled from half-way up the stairs, stopping for a second only to be caught by Derek—finally. "Besides, monsters live in water. Like in mommy's book."

Derek sighed in frustration, why did Mrs. Stilinski always leave her books out? Stiles always ended up reading them, and then things like this happened. Stiles wasn't a bad kid, he just found logical fears in mundane activities to get out of them. Last week it was pesticides being in his vegetables from the grocery store—Derek had ended up planting a whole garden or organic foods for the brat—and how they'd give him a bunch of different diseases when he was older. This week it seemed as though it was the reptilians that had infested the water around Beacon Hills—a supernatural lizard that could poison you. Mrs. Stilinski and Dr. Deaton had been researching for Derek's mom. Apparently Stiles could read archaic Hebrew and ancient Latin.

"I'll have a bath with you then!" Derek growled, dragging Stiles kicking and screaming into the bathroom. The six year old of course started bawling.

"What if they get you too?" Stiles asked, big tears rolling down his freckled face.

"They won't, I have superpowers that make lizards run away." Not true, he had been attacked by one of the lizards; they were tiny and hurt like an S.O.B. It made Stiles calm down though, and lift his arms up for his shirt to be taken off.

Derek frowned and helped the six year old get out of his clothes, following suit at Stiles big doe eyes were turned on him and the refusal to get in the bubble bath. Lifting the boy into the tub, Derek stepped over, nearly slipping as Stiles grabbed his red and blue boat to hit the back of Derek's knee. "Can you be my Robin?" Stiles asked, holding out his robin action figure to Derek as he held Batman.

"Fine." Derek huffed as he grabbed the toy, watching the younger boy play and joining in whenever Stiles turned those big eyes on him. "We have to wash your hair." Derek said, grabbing the shampoo from the shelf on the wall.

"Can I wash yours?" Stiles asked, obediently putting his head down and closing his eyes as Derek dumped water over his hair.

"No." Derek said, lathering the smelly flower scented stuff in Stiles hair. There was absolutely no way that he was letting a six year old attempt to wash his hair. Again. "Remember what happened last time?"

"Yep." Stiles said giggling. "You cried when it got in your eyes."

"You cry when it gets in your eyes." Derek growled, filling the little container with water to dump over Stiles hair.

"Yeah, but you're a big kid." Stiles grinned as he turned, water spitting out of his mouth. "So it's okay to laugh at it."

* * *

**I'd just like to point out, the only reason Derek takes a bath with Stiles is that he see's him as pack. It will most likely be explained in later chapters, maybe not. Depends how I feel while writing. Derek is used to getting the children in his pack to take bathes by taking them with the children, so this is why he takes it with Stiles. So, don't have a cow.**


	3. CatWoman

Derek stood with the parents of other students, waiting for Stiles to come out. Mrs. Stilinski had called this morning asking him if he could walk Stiles home and watch him for an hour or two. She had been having a lot of surprise doctor's appointments lately, calling Derek at random hours to ask him to watch Stiles if her husband was unable to.

It wasn't long before Stiles came bouncing outside the doors to greet him, jumping into Derek's body. Derek silently thanked his parents for him being born a werewolf; otherwise he'd have been knocked onto his butt from the impact. It took a minute to notice the scent of salty tears and the feeling of wet on his neck as Stiles clung to him. Sighing Derek, brought his arms around the boy and carried him along the sidewalk, rubbing his back in what Derek hoped was like what his own mother did when he had bad dreams.

"What's wrong?" He begrudgingly asked, hoping it wasn't anything too serious.

"Erica Reyes took my cat-woman action figure and said I was a bad batman!" The boy wailed into Derek's ear, making him wince slightly. Wondering why he ever agreed to babysit the six year old, Derek sighed.

"It's just an action-figure. Besides it's only cat-woman." Derek had never really liked the precariously dressed super heroin; probably because she was _cat_-woman. He never had liked cats. The only cat he put up with was Stiles kitten—it was almost a year old now, but Stiles insisted Hazael was a kitten—and it was only because when he tried to drown it Stiles looked up at him with big watery eyes and started wailing.

"But, Erica was the cat-woman to my batman! Scott is Two-Face. Jackson's Killer Croc, and Lydia's Poison Ivy. Isaac is Nightwing, and then Boyd is The Knight. Danny is Alfred, although he doesn't like it all that much." Stiles pouted. "It was my cat-woman figure."

Rolling his eyes Derek set Stiles down and grabbed his hand, not wanting the seven year old to run into the street or something. "How about we stop and get ice cream?" Derek asked, he'd regret it later, but it would shut Stiles up about having his action-figure stolen.


End file.
